


A Night at the Royal Albert Hall

by cuphugaddict



Category: Kingsman (Movies)
Genre: Best Friends, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Merlin (Kingsman) Lives, Mission Fic, Not Beta Read, Pretending to Be Gay, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-29
Updated: 2019-12-29
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22015544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cuphugaddict/pseuds/cuphugaddict
Summary: Harry and Merlin go on a mission. As a couple. Things progress from there.Or: How Harry Hart destroyed Royal Albert Hall.
Relationships: Harry Hart | Galahad/Merlin, Tilde/Gary "Eggsy" Unwin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 53





	A Night at the Royal Albert Hall

**Author's Note:**

> This story started out as a Christmas gift for a very dear frind of mine. I got a dialogue prompt and could choose one of their favourite fandoms. (I'm giving the prompt at the end so I won't take anything away.) It made me think about Harry Hart and Merlin immediately. So the fandom was settled on very quickly. 
> 
> As my first language is not English, I apologise for all the mistakes still hiding in there - and for my surely terrible Scottish dialogue. Do tell me how to adjust and I will (honstely, I would be glad to improve on that).  
> Also, I have never been inside Royal Albert Hall. Please, bear with me.
> 
> And, I stole: Namely the awesomely fitting name Hamish Ian McNair for Merlin.  
> Thank you, [zebraljb](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zebraljb/pseuds/zebraljb/works?fandom_id=10872934) for coming up with it. If you want me to change it, tell me and I will.

If someone had told him the story of what had just happened, he wouldn’t have believed it.

However, his first-hand witnessing of the complete havoc that had just taken place was quite convincing. Not even the best repression-tactics would be able to make him forget that mission. Maybe he should try hypnosis … if only he believed that sort of crap would work.

It had all started out innocently enough. Innocent with a hint of odd, now that he thought about it:

The odd element was that he, Hamish Ian McNair, better known as Merlin, was asked to join Harry Hart on a mission. Being stuck with desk duty for the better part of his career at Kingsman, Merlin only raised his eyebrows at that one. Harry, or Arthur now, had explained that another man approximately his age was required, that very evening. Percival was in Korea, Lancelot in Capetown, Tristan was God knew where (he kept moving too quickly for Merlin to keep up, and how the hell did he do that?!), Bors had actually been missing for three days, Gawain was in medical care and Galahad was too young (Harry’s words). Long story short: Merlin had been the only other option to accompany Harry. And as the mission was quite straight forward, they decided to keep it to themselves and not bother the other agents.

Around half past seven, both men left the Kingsman tailor shop in appropriate gear, meaning their bulletproof, bespoke suits. The latter was indeed important as both men had to attend a gala – a charity gala one of the wealthiest men in England hosted at the Royal Albert Hall. Said man, Bartleby Hannigan, was a bit neurotic and, in Merlin’s book, he had every right to be: The reason for Harry’s and his attendance were death threats the man had received from … a more conservative underground organisation. As Merlin had (again) raised his eyebrows at the briefing, Harry had declared that the man was gay. Merlin had only shrugged while Harry had given him one of his ‘Are you serious? Why didn’t you know this?’-looks. The ones Merlin revelled in giving Harry, come to think of it. So in order to keep the suspicion low, they should show up as a couple. No matter how well-developed and backed up their aliases were – and Merlin had seen to that, thank you very much – it would seem more believable to show up to a gala benefitting victims of homophobic hate crimes with your same-sex partner. Plus, the events at Richmond Valentine’s place had proven that it never hurt to bring somebody along on a mission. Alas, they were stuck for the evening, so to speak.

Merlin couldn’t lie to himself: He was absolutely thrilled to be in the field.

Yes, the mission in Cambodia had been a disaster. An hour in the field and he had been blown off his feet by a landmine. It didn’t count that he saved Eggsy’s life, he supposed. However, what that … mishap had taught them was that their suits were not only bullet proof, but were also able to protect the person wearing them from more severe burns or, well, being blown to pieces. Their modern day armour really was spectacular. And now, it had been improved, thanks to Merlin’s input, and protected their agents to an even higher degree. Yes, he had the odd scar tissue here or there, but that didn’t matter. The only thing that had been injured severely had been his lower legs. The shoes with all their gadgets had offered some protection, but still his feet had been shattered. Thanks to an emergency operation the amputation could be prevented and after a year of painful physio therapy Merlin was able to walk somewhat normally again. Still, to this day, he carried a walking stick with him. For security reasons as from time to time, he still was a bit wobbly on his feet. And the stick shot high calibre missiles.

The stick also prove to be very useful to actually get in touch with Bartleby Hannigan.

As soon as Harry and Merlin had entered Royal Albert Hall, Harry showing off like a peacock – to be fair, Merlin had mentally prepared for this – they headed for the bar. Drinks were never a bad idea, Merlin could hold his liquor after all. On top, they would take the edge off his first mission after the Cambodia mishap and standing at the bar gave both of them the opportunity to scan the room without being suspicious. As both men leaned their backs against the old oak furniture they instinctively leaned closer to each other. “There’re only three exits that the suspects can use …” Harry concluded after a few seconds.

“Aye”, Merlin agreed, while Harry continued: “Maybe only two if they strike during the concert. Do ye think they will?”

“I can’t see when else they would be. It’s the only time the foyer is somewhat empty and all people are crowded in a more or less confined space”, Merlin said, looking from exit to exit.

After he had taken a sip of his scotch, somebody almost knocked him off his feet. While Merlin cursed himself inwardly for not being observant enough, Harry effortlessly caught him in his arms. Once Merlin turned around, fully intending to give whoever had bumped into him a piece of his mind, he was faced with Bartleby Hannigan – who apologized profusely. “Oh God, I am terribly sorry. Are you alright? Here is your walking stick …”

Merlin was acutely aware of the hand landing on his arm after handing him the stick back. Even though their host was quite handsome – in a showy kind of way – he had to force out a smile. He didn’t like to be touched like that. “No harm done.” Inwardly, he fumed. Enter Harry, who prove to have more experience with missions like this. Or better manners. Maybe both. “Oh, don’t worry, I am used to catching him. I’ve had years of practise.” Harry’s smile didn’t falter as Merlin turned around with an annoyed gaze that would have been one to write home about.

“So you are here together then. Marvellous. … Oh, where are my manners? Bartleby …” he started but Harry waved at their host in dismissal: “Hannigan. Of course we are aware of our host, Mr. Hannigan. Admirable project you have here.”

Already, Hannigan was hanging on every word leaving Harry’s lips. Of course he was. It was time to intervene, before Harry’s ego was growing bigger than the Royal Albert Hall was able to contain. “Indeed”, Merlin started and leaned a bit more debonair onto his stick, “As soon as we’ve heard about the charity gala, we purchased the tickets. Maybe my darling Geoffrey was never the object of a homophobic hate crime, but I can certainly tell a different story …” Nonchalant, he pointed his stick towards his legs. If Harry could lay on the dramatics, so could he. He was sure that in that very moment, Harry prepared a lovely story on how he lost his eye.

Bartleby Hannigan’s hand flew to his chest, “I am so sorry to hear that. I am really busy at the moment, lots of preparations to do, you see, but … Maybe you could join me for a drink later, Mr. …”

“Barnard. But please call me Neil. And this is Geoffrey Thwaites, my partner.” Harry and he shook hands with their host, who excused himself only seconds afterwards – but not without having they promise to join him later. Walking away from the bar, Hannigan turned on his heel, “Oh, and a word of advice: I would head for one of the seats at the back. The acoustics are much better.”

Merlin raised his glass in a toast while Harry gave the man one of his blinding smiles. “He’s acting …”, Harry started and Merlin knew exactly what he wanted to say.

“Weird. Weird in a way that he seems completely untroubled by the threats”, he finished.

“Exactly what I was thinking”, Harry confirmed, leaning a little further into him, “We have had professionals who were faced with threats all their life acting more concerned than he does. Also, it is not only him who might be affected but all of the guests here…”

Suddenly, Merlin had an idea: “Ye have more experience in these things than I do … Geoffrey, so do tell me if I’m wrong, but shouldn’t the acoustics be equally good in every seat in a building like Royal Albert Hall?”

Harry grinned at him, “Absolutely. I think you charmed him enough so he wanted to spare you the trouble of getting blown up – again.” The bastard winked.

“How do ye know it’s a bomb? AND: I think ye have done your fair share in charming the guy’s pants off. It could only have been worse if ye added your strong arms into the sentence about catching me for years, ye twat.” Merlin teased.

Harry shrugged, “Maybe he wants a threesome …” Merlin only rolled his eyes while Harry finished his drink: “And how I know it’s a bomb? Please, what else could it be? Poison? What if the waiters mixed up the tables or trays? Gas? Everybody would be affected – including Hannigan himself. Weapons? Everybody was checked at the entrance.”

They slowly moved towards the main hall, excusing themselves left and right. There were a lot of people here, that much was sure. “A bomb”, Harry continued, “would be the obvious choice.”

“He could at least contain the radius …” Merlin mused and had to agree that Harry must be right. It had to be a bomb. “I’ll go in and ye stand watch, deal?”

Harry nodded although a small pout formed on his lips. Merlin rolled his eyes, “Oh please! Ye’re the pretty one, I am the one who can defuse a bomb. Ye have to give me something here …”

“The appropriate term is handsome, my dear …” Harry chastised over the earpiece while Merlin walked in. He grinned.

Harry had been right. It was a bomb. Small radius, little impact – but enough to kill. Thankfully, Merlin found it easily enough – “Amateurs”, he thought not too unhappily about that fact – and with a few well-practised moves he had disarmed the bloody thing. Bomb squad in the army did pay off yet again. He took the initiator with him, just to be absolutely safe before he told Harry to join him: “The air is clear and ye won’t have to fear for your sassy butt, Hart.” Harry entered with a raised eyebrow and sat down next to Merlin – right above the defused bomb.

“So you noticed my butt then”, Harry stated once they were sitting down.

Merlin grinned, “Dinnae flatter yourself, the suits are bespoke. One has no choice but to notice the butt.”

Harry smirked, “Keep telling yourself that, _Neil_.”

After a brief pause while more and more people entered the auditorium, Merlin asked, “Why do ye think he did that? At his own charity gala?”

Harry shrugged, “You know what they say: There is no such thing as bad publicity. Plus, he could frame himself as the victim who just barely escaped the claws of death … Not the worst reputation.”

Merlin sighed, “Great. Now, if the story gets out, he will be the self-centred, aging, gay drama queen who wanted his five minutes of questionable fame by bombing his own gala. That’ll help the rest of us …”

As Harry didn’t say anything, Merlin turned his head. He was faced with an unreadable expression. Then, Harry said lightly: “We can sweep it under the rug. Another celebrity story will turn up”, he smirked, “Or we’ll simply cause something to make the front pages.”

“Geoffrey Thwaites, behave yerself” Merlin warned. He certainly was not up to Harry’s shenanigans tonight. “Oh look who’s decided to join us …” the Scotsman said as Hannigan entered the auditorium. “We shall give him a wave, shouldn’t we?”

“Cheeky bastard”, Harry said but went along with Merlin’s own, cheerful wave. A look of utter shock passed their host’s face. Still, he kept on walking. To the seats further in the back. Coward.

While Harry advised their back-up team to monitor all the exits should Hannigan try to escape – highly unlikely, as Merlin thought, as he would only incriminate himself even further – the concert started. As Merlin looked questionably at Harry, his friend only shrugged: “Might as well enjoy the music, what do you reckon?”

Merlin nodded and focused on the string quartet up on stage. They were playing Haydn and it was beautiful. For a second, Merlin forgot that this actually was a mission. He looked over at Harry and saw the other man watching the musicians on stage with the same wonder as he had only moments ago. The Scotsman allowed himself to enjoy this, before they had to arrest Hannigan and bring him back to headquarters for further questioning.

The next time Merlin looked over at Harry was in utter shock. To give credit where it was due, Harry did not look any better than he himself:

Galahad had just walked onto the stage with no other than Elton John, the final act of this evening. Of course, Merlin had been informed about the rest of the mission in Cambodia – that prominently featured the musician. He was also aware of the man playing at Galahad’s wedding (that Merlin, sadly, was unable to attend) but this?! “Good evening ladies and gentlemen. It is my pleasure not only to play at this admirable event, but to start the show with my very dear friend, Dennis Severs.” Applause followed that soon quieted down after both men started singing _Don’t let the Sun go Down on Me_. Mouth slightly agape, Merlin turned towards Harry, whose eyebrows were raised, standing out slightly above his glasses.

“Well,” Harry started after a few moments, “Seems like Galahad has hidden talents.”

“Are ye talking about the singing or the sneaking behind our backs?” Merlin asked not unimpressed himself.

Harry chuckled, “Well, we pride ourselves in only taking in the most talented people to be out employees. He proves that …”

“He certainly does …” Merlin confirmed and grinned at the shocked expression Eggsy gave both of them when he saw them in the auditorium. It seemed just like him to simply jump into a mission he picked up himself without telling anyone else – not unlike the two of them had done. Still, Harry would have a word with him at headquarters, he was sure. Nothing goes beyond the big boss and such …

They met Galahad outside after a blissfully bomb-free concert.

“What on earth are you doing here?!” Eggsy whisper-screamed once they had arrived at their fellow agents’ spot at the bar.

“We could ask you the same thing, dear boy”, Harry scolded in his best Arthur-voice.

“Threat about some attack … Preventing this sort of thing is kind of our job description, innit?” their young colleague answered exasperated.

Merlin rolled his eyes, “What … Geoffrey here meant was why ye didn’t run it past him.”

Eggsy rolled his eyes dramatically, “No need getting you involved in all this. I would have had it under control myself.”

“Of course you would”, Merlin teased and pulled the initiator a tad out of his pocket, “Mostly because I have defused the bomb before the concert even started. What was yer plan anyway, throwing yerself over the blasted thing once it started beeping?!” He was getting quite furious himself.

Eggsy put on his trademark smirk, “Well, you’ll never find out now, will you?”

“Don’t get cocky with me lad …”, Merlin warned. “He’s worse than you”, he shot in Harry’s direction.

That bastard only shrugged, “I trained him well.”

“God help us all”, Merlin muttered and shook his head. “You stay here and keep the place in check. I will contact our team outside and arrest Hannigan myself.”

“Hannigan?!” Eggsy gaped and Merlin rolled his eyes, “See. Unprepared! Geoffrey, brief him.”

Harry smiled, “I will. Say: Are you planning on actually arresting that man or are you going to seduce him into a taxi?” At Eggsy’s raised eyebrows Harry elaborated: “He was very smitten with Neil’s … stick.”

“Unbelievable”, Merlin muttered and went to find their host while he heard Eggsy ask tentatively: “Do I even want to know?”

Not fifteen minutes later, Hannigan was on his way to headquarters, being very confused how the guy with the walking stick managed not only to actually catch him but to be an expert in pyrotechnics. Merlin only grinned at that mischievously. As the taxi departed, he took a deep breath and nodded to himself. A job well done.

And of course, the universe took that very moment to tell him that it hated him:

The alarm in the Royal Albert Hall went loose, people started to run out of the building screaming and in the foyer – where Harry and Eggsy still stayed, his brain helpfully supplied – a window burst. Had there been another attack? Had it not been Hannigan after all?

Getting back into the building was almost impossible due to the masses of people trying to get out. Almost. Once Merlin had made it into the foyer, he saw pure destruction: People trying leave frantically, tables and chairs knocked over, bottles of expensive liquor above the bar burst (‘ _What a shame_ ’, Merlin thought), liquor and curtains on fire and Eggsy trying to control the damage with a huge fire extinguisher. Had there been another bomb?

Merlin made his way over to where Harry was helping an elderly lady in a gown up from the floor and guided her and her husband to the nearest exit. “What on earth happened?!” Merlin asked flabbergasted.

“Uhm …” Harry started but didn’t continue. Now, Merlin raised an eyebrow. That could only mean one thing: Whatever this was, it had been Harry’s fault.

“Harry …?” Merlin asked threateningly.

His colleague put on his puppy face: “You have beautiful eyes.“ He had the audacity to blink.

“Complimenting me won’t distract me from the fire, Harry”, Merlin carefully enunciated, patience wearing thin.

“For God’s sake, he flirted and the waiter flambéing the fancy drinks set the curtain on fire”, Eggsy supplied helpfully before he released another load of foam in the general direction of the window.

To give Harry credit, he did blush. At least a little bit. It might have been the fire, though.

“I can’t believe it …” Merlin muttered. “Where are the fire extinguishers?”

Taking a deep breath, Merlin finally relaxed in the back of one of their taxis. What a night! To his left, Harry cleared his throat.

“Don’t even start, Harry.” Merlin rubbed his eyes behind his glasses. A very fine headache was brewing there, he could already feel it. Thankfully, the two of them were alone in the car; Eggsy was escorting Elton John to his London residence.

“I am really sorry … Hamish.” The use of his given name, rare as it was, made him look over the man he knew for the better part of his life. Shaking his head, a grin appeared on his face. It was kind of funny how Harry’s flirting destroyed Royal Albert Hall.

“What on earth did ye do?” Merlin asked after a few moments where looks of peace (or at least truce) were exchanged between them.

Harry waved his head, “Clearly, it is not my fault if the waiter can’t handle my charm”

“Clearly”, Merlin added sarcastically.

Harry smiled and Merlin mirrored it. Although with a little less enthusiasm. He had a reputation to maintain after all. Relishing in the peace and quiet, he closed his eyes for a few moments. Of course, it was Harry who disturbed it yet again.

“I meant it, you know?”

“Meant what?” Merlin asked, eyes still closed.

Harry cleared his throat yet again, “What I said about … about your eyes.”

Merlin opened only his left eye and looked over at Harry, “Jesus Christ, that waiter must have been a blushing virgin to be swayed by those flirting techniques.”

Weirdly enough, his statement wasn’t met with the usual chuckle, but with a hurt look on his friend’s face before he turned towards the window. Concerned, Merlin sat up straighter and lay his hand on Harry’s arm. “Harry?” As nothing in terms of a reply came, he added, “Everything alright?”

“No, nothing is alright …” Harry snapped which caused Merlin to pull back slightly. Things were serious then. “I am perfectly fine with charming the pants off any given stranger but when I want it to work it doesn’t.”

The Scotsman gulped and was glad that Harry’s face was still turned towards the window of the taxi. And there he had been, thinking that the fire was the biggest surprise this night held for him. After a few moments, he had collected his thoughts: “Don’t get this the wrong way, Harry, but are ye bullshitting me right now?”

The other man finally turned around, “No, as a matter of fact I am not.”

Merlin shook his head, “What?!”

That led to Harry throwing his hands up in defeat: “See. This! Why is it so unfathomable to you that I might have feelings for you?”

“I … well … because … Because you don’t. You never have feelings for anybody. Romantic ones, to be precise. You like showing off and peacocking around but … that’s it.” Merlin could not believe what he was hearing.

“Has it ever crossed your mind that I am doing this as a specific kind of protection? So that I do not have to confront my feelings? That I have feelings for … that I am gay?” Merlin knew what it meant for Harry to say that one out loud. During their days in the army, they had had enough time to cover their personal background. More than once. Accordingly, Merlin knew what traditional dipshits Harry’s parents had been. They had certainly made sure to maximise the damage. The other man continued: “That I am in love with my best friend, who knows me better than I know myself? Who will never return it?” Harry waved in front of his face dismissively.

Again, Merlin had to gulp: “Harry …”

“No, don’t start. You don’t have to say anything. You probably have a husband at home for all I know. Please, let’s just forget this ever happened …”

After a few moments of silence and complete chaos in Merlin’s head, he decided that it was time for a little familiarity: “If I dinnae feel it to be completely inappropriate, I would make a joke about you also being an aging gay drama queen.”

Harry huffed out a laugh but kept his eye firmly out the window. Merlin took Harry’s hand carefully in his: “Do ye really think that I would have married someone without inviting ye? … Don’t ye know me at all?” he added with no real malice.

Harry met his eyes and shrugged insecurely. Merlin shook his head, “Are ye serious about this?”

“I … I am, Hamish”, Harry confirmed to Merlin’s amazement. He still considered it to be a joke of some sort. Harry Hart, breaking hearts left and right, was interested in him, plain old Merlin. Well, Harry was about the same age, but the thing was Merlin looked it, Harry didn’t. It would have been a blatant lie to say that he didn’t consider Harry attractive. He very much did – as everyone with functioning eyesight would, but the thing was that he had buried those feelings way back in their army days. Back then, he hadn’t considered that Harry would ever return his feelings – hadn’t done so since about ten minutes ago – and so Merlin had put their friendship above everything else.

Merlin nodded to himself, “I tell you what: I need time. I mean, dinnae get this the wrong way but I need to think about this. After over thirty years of friendship, this is new.” Merlin could see Harry trying to protest and, in a way, was glad to see the old Harry returning, “Don’t deny the thirty years, Harry. You are over fifty and there is nothing you can do about it. What I was about to say: I need to wrap my head around this. But then, we could go … on a date or something.”

Harry smiled at him and nodded. “Alright.” Suddenly the face of the other man fell in an almost comical way.

“What?” Merlin asked, exasperated. “What now?”

“What on earth are we going to do on a date?” Harry asked with substantial amount of horror in his voice.

Merlin felt as if somebody had dropped a stone in his belly: “I have absolutely no idea.”

“We have done everything there is to do already …” Harry exclaimed, realisation dawning.

Merlin could only nod, “Indeed we have. Dinners, movies, concerts …” he waved back towards the general direction of Royal Albert Hall, “Christ, we have even posed as couples on dates.”

“And not only for missions’ sakes …” Harry supplied which caused Merlin to give him a questioning look. “Oh please”, Harry started, “Are you meaning to tell me you have forgotten about Las Palmas?”

“Right”, Merlin nodded in understanding, “Repressed is more like it.” Harry had been on a mission on the Canary Islands, Merlin as the man behind in his ear. Once the mission had been concluded successfully, Harry decided to stay a few days – since he wasn’t needed otherwise. Merlin had decided to do so as well. Suffice to say, they had underestimated the LGBTQ-scene on Gran Canaria and astronomically so. And while Merlin appreciated a little attention, it soon got too much. Hence, he had promised to cover Harry’s paperwork for three months if he posed as his faithful lover.

“Maybe the date was a bad idea …” Harry concluded a little disappointedly.

Merlin grinned, “I wouldn’t say so. We’ll figure something out.” Harry smiled at him. Both men nodded at each other and looked out their respective windows.

“You have not let go of my hand”, Harry said a few moments later.

Merlin smirked, “Masterful observation, I dinnae know how it has taken them so long to make you Arthur …” Once Merlin had let a few minutes pass, he looked over at his best friend. Seeing the warm smile, one of Harry’s real smiles, as he knew, warmed his heart. Maybe they could make this work. In fact, he was sure they could. They would figure something out.

They always did.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was:
> 
> “You have beautiful eyes.“  
> “Complimenting me won’t distract me from the fire, A.”


End file.
